


Prior Commitment

by tuesday



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mistaken for Being in a Relationship, POV Peter Parker, POV Third Person Limited, Past Tense, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2019-11-08 14:03:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17982473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tuesday/pseuds/tuesday
Summary: The first time it happened, Peter was still seventeen.





	Prior Commitment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thinlizzy2](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinlizzy2/gifts).



> I went with the middle of your age range (17-18). Your prompts were all fantastic. :D
> 
> Thanks so much to natcat for all your help!
> 
> No advisories past the inherent age gap. Always feel free to ask if you have any questions or special concerns.
> 
> Finally redating for author reveals. Sorry if anyone sees this twice!

The first time it happened, Peter was still seventeen. He was invited to a Superbowl watch party Tony was throwing, and unlike with the NBA finals, Tony actually showed up instead of attending the game in person. Three people had made various comments indicating they thought Peter was Tony's just-discovered illegitimate son, but an elderly gentleman had looked Peter up and down in a salacious way that would've probably seen him shot by an irate father were that the case. Honestly, Tony looked like he was considering it anyway. The man accompanied his leer with the words, "I must say, Tony, this is a step up from that Potts girl."

Tony's smile was all teeth. His hand was warm on the back of Peter's neck as he stepped forward and angled Peter back, behind the bulk of him. "The kid's off limits. _Some_ of us have no intention of getting arrested, and if you don't behave, I'll call the cops myself."

For once, Peter wasn't interested in pointing out that he was seventeen and perfectly legal in the state of New York.

The man inhaled sharply. "If that's how you wish to play it."

"Hammer, I don't know who let you in, but I know you weren't invited. Get out." Hammer went. To Peter, Tony said, "Justin's old man always was a creepy asshole. If you see him again, walk the other way, then come let me know he's still here. I'll set security on him."

Tony squeezed the back of Peter's neck once, then released him to go join a knot of football players arguing about a call the ref had just made. Peter went to join Happy by the biggest TV. Despite the creepy asshole, Peter felt warm all over.

Happy pointed at the replay. "Wayne's wrong. That was definitely good."

"Yeah, sure. Exactly." Peter nodded like he had any idea of what was going on.

At the end of the night, Tony clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Thanks for coming."

Peter rode the high of watching the Superbowl with Tony—"I got to see the game with _Mr. Stark_ ," he kept whispering to himself—through the rest of the week.

 

* * *

 

The next time it happened, Peter had just turned eighteen, and Tony had decided that called for a celebration and a gift. Specifically, a new suit to wear to his pick of a $300 plate dinner.

"I don't know any of those restaurants," Peter said. "I have no idea what I'm choosing between."

"Good point." Tony looked at him intently, then said, "I'll take you to Per Se. We can leave if you hate it."

The suit fitting took forever. He kept fidgeting and got stabbed with a pin. The assistant gave _him_ a dirty look over it. Tony had breezed in, made a bunch of choices, and breezed back out, barely saying a word to Peter himself, though he had gotten in one long, focused stare, eyes raking up and down Peter's body, before giving his opinion on cut.

Finally, the girl who'd stabbed him said, "I don't care if you are dating Tony Stark, I can't work like this!"

"What?" Peter asked, startled.

"Hold. Still."

Peter tried his best, but he got stabbed two more times.

 

* * *

 

The food wasn't worth $300 in Peter's opinion—he'd have been just as happy with pizza—but the hour and a half of Tony's undivided attention was the perfect birthday gift.

Almost as good was when Tony walked him out. He put a hand on Peter's shoulder and leaned in close, breath puffing warm against Peter's ear, to say, "Suit looks good."

He squeezed once and walked away. Peter watched him go.

 

* * *

 

The third time was a fancy soiree being held for the Maria Stark Foundation. There was a concert violinist with a little band accompanying her, a dance floor populated by several dozen elegant men and women who looked like they did this for a living, and a full bar he was not to approach on pain of being kicked out by Tony Stark himself.

"I still don't understand why I'm here," Peter said.

"Neither do I," Happy said.

"I invited you," Tony said. He reached out and adjusted Peter's bow tie. Peter held very still as Tony smoothed out his waistcoat and patted the lapels. He ended this very welcome invasion of Peter's personal space with a hand dropped briefly on Peter's shoulder. "Go on. Enjoy yourself. Let me know if anyone bothers you."

Peter wasn't sure this was the sort of event a teenager was meant to enjoy, but he was technically an adult now, so he did his best. He ended up stationing himself by the band, listening to the music and watching the dancers. Eventually, a little old lady doddered up and said, "I can't believe he's still doing this."

"Um, who's doing what?" Peter asked when it became apparent the woman was talking to him.

The woman nodded across the room, her silver hair swishing against her jaw. Peter followed her rheumy-eyed gaze to Tony laughing his "I'm being polite. See how polite I'm being?" laugh at something a huge bull of a man was saying. The man clapped Tony on the back with what looked like bruising force.

"Always abandoning his dates to make nice with the donors. He should know better than to leave you unprotected." The woman sniffed.

"Is there something I need to be protected from?" Peter asked uncertainly.

"Sharks swimming, sniffing out blood in the water." The woman laid a hand on Peter's wrist. "Let me tell you, dear: you're bleeding."

"Okay," Peter said slowly. "Thank you for the warning?"

"Oh, no, don't thank me." The woman smiled sharply. "I'm one of the sharks. And you, young man, with no date to save you or claim prior commitment, are free for a dance."

"I don't—"

"Have anything better to do? You're absolutely right." She put her hand on his arm and tugged him firmly, inexorably toward the dance floor. "Now you'll have to go slow. I'm not as spry as I used to be."

She said that, but she kept him out there for five whole songs. She stepped on his feet no less than fifteen times. Peter was only set free because Tony stopped them between songs and said, "May I cut in?"

Peter was beyond being polite. He took a step back. "Please."

Instead of taking up where Peter left off, Tony swept _Peter_ up in his arms, one hand at Peter's waist, the other clasping his hand. To the old woman, he said, "Nice seeing you, Evelyn," and then he was leading Peter into the next song. "She's not actually that bad a dancer." There was barely an inch of space between them. Tony's hands were warm. "She's just an unrepentant busybody who likes to knock people off balance so they're more likely to answer her questions. She likes to meddle. She's a meddler." Tony took them through a simple box step, the only reason Peter was able to keep up. "I'd like to remind you that I said you could come to me if anybody bothered you."

"She just wanted to dance." Peter hadn't minded until she'd started grinding her heel into his toes.

"It's never just dancing with Evelyn." Tony's thumb swept over the same few centimeters of Peter’s waist as they moved, up and down, up and down. Peter really regretted the two layers of fabric in the way.

Peter smiled sweetly and decided to take a little bit of revenge. "Well, she did want to know if we were going to adopt soon or if you were waiting for me to finish college first."

Tony tripped over Peter's feet.

Evelyn got to them first, not so slow or unsteady on her feet after all. She looked delighted. "Never, in all my years—"

Tony pointed up at her. "Don't you start. This is your fault."

Peter climbed to his feet and pulled Tony up after him. "Actually, uh, that was my bad."

"She didn't ask that? No, of course she didn't." Tony braced himself with one hand on Peter's chest. After a moment, he made a motion like he'd just been dusting Peter off, nothing to see here. Evelyn watched it all with eyes shining with mirth. "We really need to talk about your sense of humor."

"She wanted stock tips."

"That was between you and me, dear, and frankly you were useless."

"Insider trading, Evelyn? Again?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Evelyn patted Tony on the arm. "Bring your young man with you to my next gala. He may be useless for trading tips, but at least he's pretty."

"He's not my young man," Tony said.

"Mm-hmm." Evelyn didn't sound like she believed him.

Peter didn't say anything. Even if it weren't true, he would very much like it to be, and he just knew that it showed on his face.

Tony didn't seem to notice. He lifted his chin and put his hands to Peter's shoulder and waist again. "Want to finish that dance with less falling over this time?"

"I wasn't the one who tripped," Peter said.

But yes. Yes, he did.

 

* * *

 

The last time, it wasn't even Peter. The article was a puff piece speculating about Tony's relationship with Spider-Man. There were a number of photos supporting the thesis that Tony had gotten over his heartbreak from the Pepper break-up with a certain arachnid-themed superhero's help.

"And no," the article stated, "it's not Black Widow."

In one photo, Peter was being princess-carried by the armor. In another, they were posing arm in arm. A third had captured Peter (in costume again) standing protectively over Tony (out of it for once) as he caught a supervillain's fist in his own. In the fourth, the camera angle made it look like Tony had his hand on Peter's ass—which Peter would _definitely_ have remembered if it had actually happened. Same with the obvious photoshop of Peter kissing the armor's faceplate just over Tony's mouth.

"Look at this one." Ned pointed at the screen. "Real or fake?"

Peter had his arms around Tony's shoulders and his legs around his waist, carried in an awkward piggyback. Peter had run out of webbing, and Tony had needed his hands free.

"Real, but it wasn't like that."

"Yeah, obviously. I think I'd know if you were dating Tony Stark."

"I could be," Peter protested.

"Maybe," Ned agreed. "But I'd know." Ned scrolled. "Listen to this ship name. I think it's my favorite: Man-Man."

"That's terrible."

"Terribly great?"

Peter did not agree.

 

* * *

 

Tony had seen the same article.

"I can get them to print a retraction if it bothers you," Tony offered.

"It doesn't bother me," Peter said softly. "That's not why I brought it up."

Tony looked up from where he was tinkering with a web-shooter. He put down the tiny screwdriver on the workbench. His eyes were suddenly sharp, interested. "So why did you?"

"Because it doesn't bother me." Peter tipped his chin up. "Because I'd like it to be true."

"You don't know what you're asking for," Tony said, dismissive, but there was a catch to his voice.

"I know what I want," Peter said. He stepped into Tony's space, crowding him against the workbench. "The only thing I don't know is if you're willing to give it to me."

"You seem awfully confident for someone who's not sure he's wanted." But Tony didn't try to pull away.

"Pretty sure you want me." If he weren't, Peter never would've brought it up. "Less sure you'll actually take what's on offer."

"I shouldn't," Tony said. "We shouldn't."

"Why not?" Peter put his hands on Tony's shoulders and leaned in, but didn't close that final distance. He waited, wanted to let Tony come to him.

Tony moved forward, but only to rest his forehead against Peter's. He closed his eyes. "Because."

"That's not a reason."

Tony's breath was warm against Peter's face. His eyelashes were surprisingly long up this close, a delicate fan that drew Peter in. His eyes were a warm amber when he opened them. "I want you too much. I don't know how I'd ever be able to let you go."

"So don't." Peter brought up a hand to stroke Tony's cheek. "Keep me."

"Pete. Kid. You're eighteen." Tony's smile was bittersweet. "You're not going to want this to last forever."

"I think I'll surprise you."

Tony sighed. "You're going to break my heart." His lips were unexpectedly soft when they landed against Peter's mouth. Peter parted his own, and Tony licked his way in. Eventually, Tony pulled back, resting his forehead against Peter's again. "Yeah, okay. I'll keep you. However long you'll let me."

 _Forever_ , Peter thought, a vow he kept to himself. Tony wouldn't have believed him. That was okay. Peter had plenty of time to prove it.

He pulled Tony into another kiss. Then another. And another. Again and again, always wanting more. Tony met him every time.

 

* * *

 

Their next gala was thrown by the same woman who'd stepped on Peter's toes at the last one. She shot them an approving look when Tony kept Peter within arm's length the entire first half of the evening. They were only separated when Peter went to the restroom and Tony went to fetch himself another drink.

On the way back out, Peter ran into Evelyn, who said, "Don't look so frightened. I'm not here for a dance this time."

"I don't have any stock tips, either," Peter warned.

"I got that the last time." Evelyn patted his arm. "I just wanted to say how nice it was to see you happy. Last time, you looked bored out of your skull. This time, you seem like you're still in the first flush of love."

"I am," Peter said. "Happy, I mean."

"Enjoy yourself. Do let me know if you have any information begging to be passed on, but for now, I think your paramour is desperate for a dance."

Tony had, in fact, set his drink down on a passing waiter's tray and was booking it straight for them. He hooked his arm in Peter's and said, "I'm afraid this one's dance card is full."

Evelyn clicked her tongue. "Selfish."

"Very," Tony agreed.

"I approve." She moved on.

Peter smiled. "You know this means you have to dance with me, right?"

"A terrible hardship," Tony said dryly.

Somehow, they muddled through. The next day, a close up of their swaying in place made it to the society section of the paper along with speculation on Tony's latest beau. Peter grinned at the picture of his own besotted face and the intent expression Tony was sporting.

He hadn't minded people mistaking them for dating, but it was much, much nicer when it was actually true.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty sure I stole the Man-Man ship name joke from at least three different places for three different ships. Definitely not an original creation.


End file.
